


Andrew Laughs Twice

by sixbillionmothsfic



Category: American Crime Story: Versace
Genre: !!, Enjoy It As Much As I Did, M/M, Majority of Dialogue Not Mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:53:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13682082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixbillionmothsfic/pseuds/sixbillionmothsfic
Summary: David and Andrew are at the local diner. They talk about their relationship and you almost believe they could patch things up-even after a dude was murdered but uh. It's convincing. It takes a very sad turn, everyone is sober. People cry. #JusticeForDavid. Y'all know. I love a dialogue tennis match!





	Andrew Laughs Twice

**Author's Note:**

> Much of this is NOT my dialogue. All credit goes to the writer, Tom Rob Smith. I wanted to work my own spin into the conclusion of the scene. I add some cues and my dialogue starts after he's...shot. It basically amounts to the riff of about a paragraph, but I really love this dialogue anyway so I wanted to post it here.

Andrew sighs. “Remember where we met?”

He nods, “Market Street.—”

“—San Francisco. It was a year and a half ago.” 

“You were wearing expensive tailored clothes and drinking vintage wine.”

“You were alone at the bar.”

“You were surrounded by your high society friends.”

“I sent you a drink.” A strange warmth in his voice. 

“I thought to myself, ‘Who does that? In real life, who sends a stranger a drink?’”

“Well, you looked lonely.”

“I was lonely.”

“Well, that’s why I invited you to join our table.”

“You had everyone laughing. Your friends, the waiters. I thought, ‘I want to be like him—rich, sophisticated, erudite.’ That’s the kind of word you’d use, isn’t it? I mean, you were throwing money around like it didn’t matter. I was hoping you’d invite me back to your room. But I figured, what’s this man gonna see in me? Small-town boy.” 

“I couldn’t wait to invite you.”

My God, the Mandarin Oriental.” David quips.

“A thousand dollars a night.” 

“That hotel.” 

“Well, we had a bay suite.”

David teases a little more, “You told me you’d changed rooms three times—because you didn’t like the view!”

Andrew laughs lightly.

“You wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge.” 

“Uh huh. Best night of my life.” He smiles like he can’t believe David’s still there.   
“Oh, I never told you this, but I took my pair of white slippers home. I felt so cheap. They were only supposed to be worn once, and anyone who belonged in a room like that would never take them. I remember thinking, ‘how hard to I have to work to live like him, like Andrew. ‘Cause I’ll do it.’”

Andrew smiles again. 

“Except it was all a lie. You’ve never worked for anything. It was an act.” 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“Is that why you killed Jeff? You loved him. It was so obvious. But he figured you out in the end, didn’t he? Took him a few years, but he finally saw the real you. And you killed him for it.”

“You think that night in San Francisco was great? You just wait till we get to Mexico. I can make way more money there than I ever could here. And there’s a Mandarin Oriental down there. We can stay there for more than a night—for a week, for-for a month, however long we want, with the best room. Patio terrace, ocean view. We can tell the cute little Mexican waiters that we’re movie stars from LA.”

“You can’t do it, can you?”

“I can’t what?”

“Stop.”

 

“Why did you ask me to open the door?”

“What—”

“Why did you send me down to bring Jeff up?”

He fidgets, without making eye contact, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You knew you were going to kill him—you knew, and you wanted me to be there! You wanted me to see, you wanted me to be a part of it. You planned it, didn’t you? You didn’t ‘lose control’, you planned it!”

He insists, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“All weekend. While we were eating and drinking and dancing, is that what you were thinking about—”

“I don’t want to talk about it David.” Again. 

“Why? We’ll be outlaws, on the run—Together, you and me, is that it?”

“I don’t want to talk about this, David!” Again.

“I’m nothing like you.” 

“…I don’t want to talk about it—”

“Stop the car! Stop the car!” David grabs and fights the steering wheel away from him as they swerve in the road. Right before: Andrew reveals his gun and cocks it. He lets go. 

A gun to his chest, “Why are you always talking about the past?! We had a plan! We had a future! We had, a future, David!” He pulls the truck over. 

And continues, “We had a plan, there was a plan. We had a plan, David!” Pulling David out of the truck by his cufflink.

“We still have a plan.” He’s forced to the ground with the gun still there.

“Andrew…Andrew…we still have a plan.”

“No. No, we don’t. You don’t get it. We don’t.”

“We do. Yes, yes.”

“Tell me! Convince me!”

“Uh, first we-we’ll go and visit your friend in-in Chicago. Uh, Lee. Um, Miglin. L-Lee Miglin, th-the property developer. And he’ll give us some money. And then we-we’ll drive. Across the country. It’ll be an adventure. We’ll find work and a place to live.” David almost believes this shit, but he’s almost crying now. 

His voice shook, “You don’t believe that.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“No, you don’t.”

“I can see it clearly. The place where we’ll live. It’s next to the sea. And-and we’ll learn Spanish. You’re so smart, you’ll be speaking it fluently in no time. I’ll be struggling, but you’ll help me learn. You’ve always helped me.” 

“We’ll be happy?” Andrew’s voice is almost dazed. 

David’s face lights up in a smile, “Y-Yes, we’ll-we’ll be happy.” 

A small beat. 

“It could’ve been true.” His voice is a strange mixture of sadness and anger. He raises his gun to meet David’s eye line. 

“Andrew…listen to me. It’s over. We need to go to the police. This has to stop.”

He breaks, “Why couldn’t you run away with me? If it had been Jeff, you would’ve run away with him, but not me. 

You’d rather go to prison.”

“It’s not real.” 

Andrew protests finally, “It could have been.”

“No. It couldn’t.”

David tries to run. 

Two gunshots. First his back. And then his shoulder. 

And then a shot near his eye. 

Andrew lays down next to David’s body. Almost asleep. His head to a still chest for a while, and whispers there,

“You didn’t believe any of this. It could’ve been true. I could let you live, but I know you would run. You would run. You would run to Jeff, and I’m not sure what hurts more. I don’t regret anything I said. But you tried to leave and I had to do something. I couldn’t let this destroy your life, so I…had to destroy your life.. And you talk about me. With Jeff. You talk about me with Jeff. And I broke. And you didn’t think it through like this. Like I told you. It could’ve been true. We could’ve been happy. It could have been. It really could have been.”

No. It couldn’t.


End file.
